Differences and Similarities. Ayato Kirishima x Reader x Kaneki Ken

Chapter Three: Anteiku

Chapter Three: Anteiku

Asami and I went to a small cafe called Anteiku. A small, plain, pleasant place in the twentieth ward, near our university. 

We were sitting at a table in front of the window, waiting for someone to take our order. "So, aren't you afraid of me?" I ask, tapping my finger nails against the surface of the brown, wooden table. I watch as Asami tucks a strand of her red hair behind her ear, fixed her skirt and took off her school jacket. Stalling, she calls a waitress herself, avoiding my question. 

"We're ready to have our orders taken." She smiles, hair bouncing as she tilts her head in an innocent manner. Ordering cheesecake for the both of us, a cup of coffee and water, the blue haired waitress writes it down on her notepad. 

Blue hair, blue eyes, slender-

"Anything else?" The cute waitress speaks up. I shake my head, dismissing the familiar faced girl. 

I turn back to Asami, repeating my question, "Aren't you afraid of me?" 

"Why did you want to come here anyways? We could have gotten coffee somewhere else." Asami counters my question with one of hers. "The Seven Eleven has coffee. It's decent and cheap. Also pretty close to the dorm rooms, convenient don't you think? "

Before I could answer, the cafe bell chimes, and in came in Kaneki and Hideyoshi.  Asami shoots me a smirk, parting her lips to once again speak. "You knew he was coming here, didn't you?" Her grin smacks her and spreads wider. Pretending not to notice them, I quietly converse with Asami, my question still unanswered. 

A few minutes later, the waitress came back with our beverages and dessert, setting it in front of us. I would have thanked her but I found myself distracted with two male figures across the room. Sipping at the water through the straw, I mix it with the thick substance that was being shoved down my throat, eyes locking at their table.  

Swallowing, I glance at Asami. My tongue feels dry and the taste of rubber and plastic dominate my taste buds. Nauseously, I take another bite of the repulsive sweet and put it in my mouth, again repeating the process. 

"How do you do it?" Asami places her fork next to her plate. "Pretending to eat human food must be a hassle every time." She whispers the last part. 

I nod agreeing with her, keeping my mouth closed before I could puke all over and make a humiliating scene. Clenching my stomach, I stand and excuse myself. Running to the bathroom, I quickly enter a stall and fall to my knees. The food finds its way up my throat and pours out of my mouth. 

The thickness could be seen as the yellow, green vomit spreads in the toilet water. Chunks still stick to my gums and lips. Spitting the rest out, I wipe my mouth with my hands and flush the toilet.

Coming out of the stall, I hit heads with the waitress, most likely getting the smell of rotten cheese all over her. I cover my mouth and apologize. "Sorry," I say as I push past her, reaching the sink to rinse my mouth and hands. 

Letting the luke warm water spill onto my hands, I pace myself, taking my time to feel better before I step out. 

"Was the food that bad?" The blue haired waitress pipes up, leaning against the sink next to the one I was stationed at. I shake my head as a response and turn off the faucet. 

"No, I wasn't feeling well throughout the day and I guess it kicked me at the moment." I lied, turning to face the waitress, I look at her name tag: Touka. 

My heart stops and my legs start to give out on me. Bob cut, pin straight hair, long bangs, blue. . .-

"(y/n)..." She doesn't show any sign of emotion as she says my name. Her face is stoic, appearance rough. Stepping closer to me, she places a hand on my shoulder. "What are you doing here?"   

"I-I left the Aogiri." I simply say, voice trembling. Touka takes her hand off my shoulder, her eyes flickered with curiosity. "I wanted to start anew." She nods, probably trying to understand why I would want to. Of course I didn't want to tell her (bluntly) that her brother was a huge dickhead, and the fact that I tried to kill him. 

Before she could say anything else, I give her a quick hug, smile and leave the restroom. 

Sitting back at my table with Asami, I pretend nothing happened and continue to sip at the water in front of me. The glass was wet from the outside, cold, making my hand moist as I hold it from the belly. Asami glances up at me, a sympathetic look crosses her face. 

"Feeling better? We can go if you want to." She suggests the idea and I comply. I look behind her and see Kaneki and Hideyoshi drawing something. It looked odd from afar. Not able to see it clearly, I ignored the pieces of paper being exchanged and admire the dark brown haired male.  

He was frail, slender, cute and pale. He had beautiful grey eyes that I could stare into for hours but alas, he was human. Looking away, I gather my things and stand. When I do, I colide with a purple haired girl with glasses. 

"I'm so sorry," I quickly say instinctively before realizing who it was. The purple haired girl shrugs it off, walking away, not saying anything. 

~*~

The next day, I went to class a bit early and saw Kaneki reading a book, happily engaged, a blush crossing his cheeks. Looking up, he waves at me. "Hey (y/n)," His tongue perfectly rolls the letters in my name, saying it as if he's done it a bunch of times. 

I salute him and set my things at my usual desk. Daringly, I go to his desk and pull up a chair next to his. "What are you reading?" I ask, looking at the back of his book. Glancing, I saw his grey eyes go wide. 

"Y-you can talk?" He looks surprised but also amused. It was a mixed expression. 

I nod, "Yeah, but that's between you and me." I wink and converse with him. It was nice not having to use stupid hand motions, forming letters with my hand. I even learned that he was a huge Sen Takatsuki fan. 

"That's really interesting. I think her best work would be Dear Kafka. It was her first and most intriguing novel." Kaneki still wore his surprised look. Putting down his book, he pulls out another one from his bag. It was 'Dear Kafka'.  

"Here, you can have it. I have two copies of it at home." He gives me a warm smile. "I'm going on a date tomorrow but maybe we can hangout sometime next week." The usually shy boy gave me his number; just in time before the class was beginning to fill in with students. 

I thank him and walk away, happy and at the same time, saddened. 

Kaneki Ken was going on a date. . .and the sad part is I know who with and how it would end. 

//Updated (8.14.2016) 10:48am//